Tears and Rain
by Chongy
Summary: "How can you even bear to look at me?" "I can't." The tale of a double agent trying to walk the line between his real life and his false one, while attempting to keep his cover in both. (Thank you to whoever made this photo. I don't know who, but I found it and I love it.)
1. Chapter 1

Cold trickled down the back of the man's neck, making him shudder as he skidded through the newly formed mud. His once smart, polished shoes were covered in a brown sludge, and the hems of the back of his trousers were slicked with filth too. A livid white scar slashed through the purple clouds overhead. The man's black shirt stuck to his soaked skin, and he shivered slightly as an echoing boom nearly shattered his eardrums.

His mangled left arm was clutched tightly to his chest as he hastily made his way up to the looming structure ahead of him, the rest of his body pleading him for mercy as it stumbled along. His chest ached from his heavy breathing: he had run all the way here, and his body had already suffered _severe _punishment from his father already. He was pretty sure that he had more than a few broken bones, and he knew that there were some horrific wounds he probably should have healed before running. But he'd had no choice; things were not going his way. First, he had been found out by his father: he had been the Order of the Phoenix's spy for over five years now, and somehow, Lucius had caught _something_ in a look he had given him one day. There must have been something in Draco's eyes, and because his father was such a good Legillimens... Then he had decided he would beat Draco and 'play games' with him. Those games were not in the slightest bit _fun_. He was lucky to be alive.

A shaky wand was pointed at the heavy double doors and they creaked open, too slow for his impatience. He dragged himself inside and they swung shut behind him as a small house-elf came hurrying up to him.

"Master-?"

"I-need-get-Dumbledore!" He wheezed.

"Is there anything else I can get sir-"

But the man had already crumpled to the cold marble floor.

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"...My dear boy, if you don't wake up soon I shall have to fetch Madam Pomfrey and a-"

The man's eyes snapped open and darted back and forth in a panic. "Where- where am I?! Wh-?"

"You are safe, for now." Kind blue eyes twinkled down at him from behind half-moon spectacles.

The man sighed in relief and visibly relaxed.

"So, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said, settling himself down in a chince armchair that hadn't been there a few seconds ago. "Tell me, what happened to you?"

"It's a long story," the man replied, smirking slightly. "Though I'm sure you want to know every last detail."

Dumbledore's eyes sparked with amusement. "I do very much, Draco." He spread his hands wide. "When you are ready."

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Propped up by numerous fluffy cushions and kept awake by several steaming mugs of coffee and some chocolate frogs, Draco finally finished his story. "I see" were the only words uttered from Dumbledore's lips. Draco's gray eyes turned pleading, and he felt disgusted at himself. _Malfoys never show weakness_. But he wasn't really a Malfoy any more, not after Lucius had torn his family ring from the chain around Draco's neck and had burned his name from the family tree. If not a Malfoy, who the hell was he? "Dumbledore, I need protection now. They could find out at any time that I am a spy. You're the only person I have left to ask, the only person I trust implicitly."

Dumbledore's piercing blue gaze raked him. "I know, Draco. I will grant you safety, and I know I can trust you to do all that is necessary to keep out of harm's way." Humour found its way back into the old man's smile. "I believe that is a Slytherin quality of yours. Here," he passed Draco a large box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. "I think you've got a good batch." Smiling broadly, the older wizard stood and put a fatherly hand on the younger's shoulder. "Madam Pomfrey will be here soon to tend to your more painful injuries, then I believe she will fix all the rest. Goodnight, Draco."

"Goodnight, Professor."

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"No!" she struggled against the rough hands that encircled her arms, squeezing her soft flesh painfully. "Mum! Dad-"

"Shut up, you fucking disgusting Mudblood!" snarled the Death Eater holding her, jerking her around like she was a piece of rubbish. Hermione was dragged down the stairs and was thrown unceremoniously into the living room where her parents were cowering in fear. She stumbled but quickly regained her balance, kneeling by her mother.

"Mum! Dad! Are you okay?"

"We're fine, sweetheart. Are _you_ okay? What's going on-?"

A sudden flash of green light had Hermione flinching away from her mother. A horrified gasp from her father made Hermione feel like vomiting and crying at the same time as she felt her heart clench painfully.

"Shut _up_!" hissed another Death Eater.

"Hermione, something's happened to your mother!" Mr. Granger was shaking Mrs. Granger, his fingers finding her wrist and searching for a pulse. Hermione could already feel the tears leaking from her eyes, blurring her vision.

"Dad-"

"Hermione! She's not responding! What's wrong?!" Mrs. Granger's head was lolling from side to side like a ragdoll. Hermione bit her lip and shook her head, agony from her heart making more tears spring to her eyes as she watched her father try to revive her dead mother.

"Dad-"

"HERMIONE WHAT'S WRONG?! WHY-"

"DAD SHE'S DEAD!" Hermione cried, grasping the shoulders of her father's chequered shirt and shaking him slightly. "That- that green light was a killing curse! She-"

Another flash of green light. This time, it was followed by gales of cruel laughter from the watching Death Eaters, who were lounging on her parent's furniture. And her father crumpled forwards in her arms as she watched the spark of life fade from his loving brown eyes.

"Dad..." she whispered, tears still streaming down her face. "Dad..."

"Come on, Mudblood. This is over. Let's roll."

Rage flared up inside her. "No!" she shouted, drawing her wand from her sleeve and pointing it at the Death Eater closest to her. "_Stupefy_!" While the other Death Eaters were distracted, she made a dash for the stairs, narrowly avoiding a pale set of hands and long blonde hair. _Lucius Malfoy._ Hermione stumbled through the hallway, more Death Eaters on her tail. She shot a few more _Stupefy!_ spells over her shoulder as she turned into her room. Hermione quickly barricaded the door with her wardrobe and grabbed her beaded bag, hastily stuffing it in her pocket: it had been so useful when she was travelling around with Ron and Harry. But she had brought it back with her when they decided it was too dangerous for her to join them. She hadn't agreed with their decision, arguing that she was just as strong as they, but then she had seen some of the things they had to do. So she had come back, gone to Australia with her parents.

Hermione's eyes searched frantically for the little silver-backed hairbrush. "Come _on_!" she muttered to herself, getting more and more desperate as she upended her wastepaper basket, hunting around through the crumpled paper and old quills. The Death Eaters were bashing on the door now, and she could see her wardrobe moving slightly with each thump. A sweat beaded in little pearls on her forehead. "Come on, Hermione. You can do it- aha!" she held up the little brush with a triumphant smile. It was glowing slightly, and she knew that it would be leaving soon.

The Death Eaters succeeded in opening the door. "We have you now, you stupid Mudblood!" said Lucius Malfoy, a smirk on his cold features as he tore off his mask and advanced towards Hermione.

"Hmm... I don't think so." Suddenly the port-key glowed a blinding pale blue. "See you later! Or not!" And with that, she waved a cheery goodbye to her assailants as she felt the familiar hook behind her navel and the port-key began to spin her around. Her heart wrenched as she remembered she had left her parents' bodies in their house.

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"Hermione?"

"Dumbledore, Professor, I- I have no-one else to turn to! I need your help! I need a place to stay safe, I need protection! I can't do this anymore!" Hermione sobbed into her hands. "M-my parents are dead, and I-"

"You need a place to stay. I understand. As it turns out, I was just going to offer that to you. I know you are going through a difficult time, Miss Granger. I will see to it that you have a safe place. But in this safe place, you will have a mission I will set for you. You will know once you get there what it is."

She wiped the tears from her eyes and gazed into Dumbledore's piercing blue gaze. "Thank you, sir. I'll do the best I can."

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Draco stared in horror at Dumbledore. "I... you're saying... I have to live like a _Muggle_?!"

The professor regarded him sternly over his crooked nose. "Yes, you will be. It's the only way, Draco. You can use magic, but sparingly and not obviously. You will live mostly as a Muggle-"

"Dumbledore, you know I... I've given up those... you know it... but this is _ridiculous_! Just because I stopped believing that Mudbloods are disgusting doesn't mean I want to _live_ like one! What kind of sick travesty is this?!"

Dumbledore only smiled. "My dear boy! This is not some 'sick travesty', to use your own words." He sounded amused, even though his expression was stern. "Please, do not use the word 'Mudblood' in front of me. We both know it is highly offensive. This is for your own protection. If you fail to comply, be it so on your own head. But your protection is very important, Draco. Do not squander this opportunity. Once you are at the house you will not be able to contact me or anyone else for a couple of months. This is for your protection and everyone else's. Is that clear?"

"Crystal, sir."

"Also, you will be staying with someone else. They will be under the impression that you have been estranged from the Death Eaters, and that they no longer want you. You must play along with this. It will be very important for your survival. No-one must know that you are a double agent."

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Draco sighed in relief as he hefted his small bag onto his bed. He didn't have much: just a couple of pairs of semi-casual trousers and a few different dress shirts, all in black; his wand, which was concealed in his sleeve; and a wallet stuffed with Muggle money and fake IDs. He also had Muggle bank accounts set up, courtesy of Dumbledore. He'd have to go out shopping or something.

Draco lay on his back beside his backpack, sprawling out over the soft green duvet. Sighing, he rolled over and promptly fell asleep, exhausted after a day of planning new skirmishes with Dumbledore on the various Death Eater hideouts he had knowledge of. He was so far gone that he didn't even hear Hermione come crashing through the front door.

"Merlin's saggy left Y-fronts!" She cursed as her suitcase hit the edge of the doorframe and popped open. Clothes and shoes spilled over the shag-pile carpet and she groaned in frustration. "Why _now_?!" Hermione stooped to the ground and began stuffing it all back into the suitcase, dragging it all inside and slamming the door. She lugged it all down the hallway and shoved it into the first room she saw, stepping over it and flicking on the light.

Hermione froze.

A shock of infamous silky blonde hair was messily framing an even more infamous and familiar pale, pointed face, which was relaxed and peaceful in slumber.

"_Malfoy..._" she breathed, stumbling backwards and tripping over her belongings in the process. "Oh no. No no no this... Dumbledore has made a mistake. Not... _him_..."

Malfoy shifted slightly in his sleep, his arm curving and tucking under his chin in an oddly child-like gesture. He looked so _vulnerable_... His legs curled up and touched his backpack, which was next to him on the bed. Instantly he was awake, his eyes snapping open as he gasped and his gray irises darted around wildly. "Wh-" His eyes found and held Hermione's honey-coloured gaze. "_You_?!" Draco sat up hastily, and in doing so hit his forehead on the edge of the nightstand with a loud crack. He let out a hiss of agony and lay back down again as pain bloomed in his head and black spots blurred his vision.

Hermione instinctively stepped forward, her arm reaching towards him. "Can I-?"

"No." Draco spat out through gritted teeth, his eyes clamped shut as he held his forehead. Hermione recoiled her hand. "Just-"

"Malfoy, it's bleeding-"

"I don't care! Leave. Me. A-fucking-lone!"

"Fine!" She marched away, using _Wingardium Leviosa _to move all her gear into her room. She called back over her shoulder. "Why _are_ you here anyway, Death Eater?" _This must be the mission Dumbledore set for me. To babysit Draco Malfoy, dreaded and deadly Death Eater. Great. This is going to be fan-bloody-tastic._

"Fuck you, Granger." He hissed, pointing his wand at the door and scowling as it slammed shut. The noise reverberated inside his skull and he winced, pulling the covers over his head and squeezing his eyes shut tight. A strong coffee and some of those Muggle painkillers would help him later.

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"Merlin's motherfucking right testicle _could you be any louder_?!" Draco fumed as he hobbled into the kitchen, clutching his head and squinting at Hermione with angry eyes. In his other hand he carried what looked like two plain white capsules branded with a green _Panadol_ label. "Fucking hell..." He muttered to himself, searching in the cupboard for a mug. When he found one, he walked over to the coffee maker and found, to his surprise, that there was already a steaming urn filled with the fragrant brown liquid. "Granger," he said incredulously, turning to her in surprise and forgetting the lumpy cut on his forehead for a moment. "_You_ drink _coffee_?"

"I don't know why that comes as such a shock to you, Malfoy." Hermione said snippily, facing away and tending to her toast, which had popped out of the toaster. "Everyone drinks it."

He contemplated her thoughtfully for a moment. "I had you pegged more as a tea girl myself." He said quietly, then began to pour himself some coffee. After swallowing the pills, he returned to his normal self. Which, for Hermione, was to say that he was incessantly annoying.

"What the heck were in those pills?" She asked him, perplexed. "Muggle medicine doesn't kick in for at least fifteen minutes..."

"Hey Granger, ever heard of a thing called... _magic_?" Draco said, a snide smile turning up the corners of his lips. "I hear it's very useful."

"Oh, sod off, Malfoy." Hermione said huffily as she grabbed a breakfast muffin, snatched her book off the table and walked away to her room.

Draco's smile just widened.

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That evening, all that remained of Draco's incident the night before was a shallow cut that was healing rapidly and a few bad memories, and Hermione was pleasantly surprised at how skilled he was with healing magic. _I thought he was just at school for his image_. She thought, rolling her eyes inwardly.

As if he could sense her surprise, he called over his shoulder to her from his station at the kitchen. "Yes, Granger. I'm actually more intelligent than you give me credit for. All my schooling life, I was second only to you. And even that was only by a point." He emphasised his point by viciously slicing up a carrot. Hermione said nothing in response, and turned to the book she was reading, _The Trojan War_. She found it engaging, reading about the Trojans and how they were doomed from the start. Cassandra, a Trojan prophet, had foreseen the War, but, being cursed by the gods, no-one believed her because they thought she was mad. So she was forced to sit and watch as the her city was burned to the ground around her. Hermione mused over this fact. _Wasn't Trelawney's grandmother's name Cassandra? What a coincidence..._

The smell of rich, tangy sauces soon permeated the room, and against her will, Hermione could feel her mouth starting to water as she emerged from her reverie.

Stupidly, she asked, "are you really cooking for me, Malfoy?"

He snorted. "Fuck no, make your own. This spaghetti is all mine." He set his plate down at the table opposite her seat and sat down, his gaze meeting her disappointed honey coloured one. "I guess you could have whatever's left of the stuff in the pan, if you can't be bothered to cook yourself..." He raised an eyebrow.

She put her nose in the air haughtily. "No, I'm fine. I'll make my _own_." And she stomped over to the kitchen- which was spotlessly clean, not a dirty dish to be seen- and began to make her own dinner, ignoring the amused gray eyes that observed her every move.

When he had finished his spaghetti, Draco stood abruptly and put his plate and cutlery in the dishwasher.

"How do you even know how to use this stuff?" Hermione mused, watching him as he bent over and carefully put his fork in, prongs up. "I mean, you wouldn't even have had this stuff at Malfoy Manor-"

"Granger, however cliché this may sound, you don't know me." Draco said coolly, standing up and staring down at her. "You never know, I might actually have lived in a Muggle building before, and had to use Muggle things, however disgusting they might have been."

"Oh _please_," scoffed Hermione, rolling her eyes. "How ridiculous."

Draco just shrugged and sipped his cup of coffee, watching her over the brim. _Funnily enough, Granger, I have had to do that very thing. And some of them _were_ disgusting, have you ever had to stay in a sleazy hotel you just _know_ has prostitutes in it somewhere? I stayed in one of those a couple of times. Not nice, let me assure you._

He strode out of the kitchen, then reappeared a few minutes later with a dark cloak.

"What is that for-?"

"Granger, I'm going out."

Hermione was shocked. "W-what?"

"Going out, you know, leaving the establishment, departing the house-"

"Oh shut up, I know what 'going out' means. But you can't-"

"I'll be back around ten. Don't wait up for me, Granger. I know how late that is for you."

The door slammed shut as Hermione spluttered in outrage at the empty silence.

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Draco strode purposefully down the sprawling drive, ignoring the ghostly white peacocks as they materialised from the shadows. Years of practise had made him a master of deception. It had taught Draco not only to lie effectively with his words, but with his body, too, and now he betrayed no hint of emotion as he reached the Manor. Snape appeared out of thin air by his elbow.

"Draco." A smirk played at the corners of his lips. "So sorry about your loss. My deepest, ah, _condolences_ for Lucius' death. I am sure you are... regretful... of his passing."

Draco inclined his head politely, his expression blank, though a hint of amusement found their way into his gray eyes. "Indeed. Thank you, Severus."

"Shall we?" said Snape, his gaze lingering on the empty grounds before slowly turning to the grand double doors before them.

Draco took a steadying breath before he opened the door.

_It's showtime._

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Draco kicked open the door, strode in and slammed it behind him. His pale face was whiter than usual, and he looked tired and wan. He made a beeline for his bedroom, absolutely exhausted, when someone, who was much shorter than him, stopped him in his tracks.

"Malfoy, where the hell have you been?! It's quarter to three in the morning! You said you'd be back at eleven! That was over three hours ago!" Hermione stood in the hallway, and she approached him angrily, shoving an accusing finger into his chest.

Draco gritted his teeth, reigning his anger and frustration in. "Granger now is not the time-"

"Now is a very good time!" Hermione ranted, waving her arms around. "Now is a fantastic time for you to tell me-"

"Seriously, Granger," He said in a very low voice, so low that Hermione had to stop shouting for a moment to hear him. His soft voice rang out like bells in the sudden silence, each word a new peal. "If you value your safety, I'd get out of my face right now. Step aside, and let me into my room. I'd do it _now_, if I were you."

She obliged, hastily stepping out of the way and letting him past. "This isn't over!" She called out to him.

He ignored her.

"Hey! I was talking to y-"

Draco's patience snapped. He stormed over to her and put his face very close to hers. "Listen to me!" He commanded, his eyes compelling her with his fury. "This is over. This is over because I said it's over, got it? Now fuck off and let me go to _fucking_ sleep, all right? Is that too much to fucking ask? No, I didn't think so. When you get home from a long day, do you want to argue incessantly with someone who has no idea about your personal life? No! You want to go to bed and finish the day, right? _Well give me the same goddamn courtesy, Granger_! I'm fucking over it! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have more important things to do than stand here arguing about petty things like coming home late!"

And with that, he strode back to his room, muttering something and prodding the door in several places. At once, the door sprang open, and Draco stepped inside, slamming it shut with a resounding crash. Hermione's heart was pounding at his close proximity, at how very near his face had been to hers, his mercurial silver eyes flashing and angry. At once her cheeks began to flame. Hermione was mortified at this reaction. _Pull yourself together, Hermione! What's gotten into you?! Blushing because Draco Malfoy was too close to you when he was shouting?! How stupid._

Something had caught Hermione's attention in his rant, however. Not once had he called her a Mudblood or told her how disgusting and filthy she was. She put it down to his being so tired and frustrated that he forgot to call her names. But now, Hermione was determined to find out what 'important things' he was doing in his room, and to do that, she had to figure out how to get into his room.

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The next day, Draco decided to go shopping for more clothes and food. "I'm going out, Granger."

"Where?"

"I'm not a fucking child, it's not of your fucking business."

"Fine."

"You're staying then?"

"Well I'm not going with _you_."

"I should bloody well hope not. I wouldn't want someone like you hanging around me like a bad smell."

"Hey-"

The front door opened and closed, and Hermione let out an annoyed huff, turning back to her book. Then she remembered her plan. She threw down her book in excitement, hurrying to the window in the lounge that looked out onto the street. Malfoy walked past, blonde head bowed and pale hands shoved into his pockets. She watched him walk until his was out of sight, then raced to his bedroom door, which was shut firmly. Hermione tried the obvious first, twisting the door handle. All she received was a small electric shock and a door that was still shut, so she tried a spell.

"_Alohamora_!"

Nothing happened.

"Hmmm..." she said, pacing backwards and forwards in front of his bedroom. "What if... Slytherin!"

Still nothing happened. She tried coming up with more verbal passwords for the next half hour, but none of them worked, so she moved on to spells. After spending a further hour on those she gave up, shoving her wand back in her sleeve in exasperation and disappointment just in time, because right then Draco came breezily through the door, loaded with what looked like designer shopping bags on one arm and the other holding several bags of groceries. Hermione had quickly darted into her room, coming out and pretending to look surprised as he set down the clothing bags at his door. Draco put the groceries on the counter, his drawling voice grating on her ears.

"You're welcome, Granger." He said, appearing once more and cocking a pale gold eyebrow at her. She just rolled her eyes. Draco watched her for a moment, his head tilted slightly to the side, then carefully looked her up and down, his eyes tightening in confusion. "What..." He whirled around to face his door, long pale fingers running over its gleaming surface. He turned back to face her, realisation dawning on his face. "Ah." Draco said, a smirk animating his face. "You tried to get into my room, didn't you?"

Hermione lifted her chin defiantly. "No."

"Yes you did!" He said, his smile growing. "I can tell."

"Oh sure. You're just saying that." She said, trying not to meet his eyes.

Draco just winked at her. "There _are_ such things as spells you don't know, Granger."

"What are they then?" She asked, a triumphant smile colouring her features.

He tapped the side of his nose. "Can't tell you that. Some secrets are best kept that- secrets. Special, Death Eater secrets."

"Then how can you tell that I've been trying to get in?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow herself in condemnation.

"Because," Draco, who was looking rather amused for some reason, flicked his wand lazily at the door, muttering something under his breath that Hermione couldn't quite hear; at once, a pale gold shimmer appeared, gradually increasing in colour until it was a glorious gold shining brightly from his door. The gold snaked in and around itself, all different shapes, showing all the different wand movements she had made throughout the last few hours. It also told him all the combinations of words she had tried, and they stood out like accusations against the dark wooden door. "It has your magical footprint all over it."

Hermione gaped. "But... but how..."

Draco flicked his wand again and it disappeared, taking away Hermione's chance to wrack her brains for the spell he had used. "Like I told you, Granger. My secret."

"This-"

He cut her off, his eyes turning serious. "Don't try to get into my room again."

"Why not? There's nothing special in there."

"Exactly. Give a man some privacy."

Hermione said nothing, watching him fastidiously pick imaginary lint from his spotless black shirt.

"Well, run along. I'm sure you have much more childish things to get up to." Draco drawled, a condescending smirk stealing over his pale features.

Hermione merely lifted her chin and flounced away, mortified once again that he had bested her.

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_Albus,_

_I sense trouble in the stars. I have foreseen consequences even you couldn't have imagined. I have seen people fall in love, and some bestowing such hatred upon one another it is hard to believe they are of the same side. I have also seen death, and bloodshed. My grandmother, Cassandra, was aware of these things even before I myself saw them. She dropped hints, scattered breadcrumbs, and I only pieced together the jigsaw now. Please, Albus, if there is anything you can do to gain the upper hand, I beg of you not to stay your hand any longer, and to play it instead. _

_In fearful hope,_

_Sybill Trelawney_

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_**Note**: Hello my faithful readers! Sorry I haven't updated for a few days, I have been working on this for a while (i.e. writing it and getting the plot up to scratch). I've decided to give Absolutely Nothing (I don't think I'll finish that one... I might even take it down. I'll have to see.) and Nights Like These a rest for the moment. I'm going to instead focus on Beneath the Darkness and this story here. This one will take longer to update, and it may alternate between this and BtD. I'm planning to make the chapters for this one much, much longer, roughly 5000 words for each. Hence, it will take much longer to get an update sorted out._

_By the way, the stuff about the Trojan War is all true (or at least, is documented history). I can verify that because I had to write an exam for it for Classical Studies. *shrug* The more you know..._

_As always, let me know what you think of this new story, and whether you like where its going or not in a review! :) They are always, always appreciated, and though I don't have time to reply to them, I'd like to thank each and every one of you who have reviewed my other stories. Anyway, if you enjoyed, favourite and follow for more Dramione :D Thanks for reading!_

_~Chongy_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note:** Hey guys! I HAVEN'T ABANDONED THIS STORY, I PROMISE! I'm so sorry I haven't been posting regularly (more like haven't posted for several months... eeek!), I have been so incredibly busy at school, no-one ever told me Form 6 was this hard. And the worst part? It only gets harder from here on out. -_- Anyway, away from depressing topics. HERE IT IS. FINALLY. It took me weeks and weeks of on-off writing, editing, and all-round general thinking up of words to fill out the skeleton (the plan. I have a plan for this one. WOOO) of my story, but here it is. I really hope you guys enjoy, the next chapter should be up relatively soonish (I probably said that about the last one, and although that was an unintentional lie, I'm actually serious about this particular claim. I've already written about a third of the third chapter, so, study permitting, it should be up within the next few weeks. Anyway, do enjoy!_

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_Dumbledore,_

_It has been over a quarter of a year now, and this charade is becoming tiresome. Why can't I tell Granger that I am on her side? We may not like each other, but her believing I have been exiled from the Death Eaters makes this living condition _very_ difficult. She constantly believes she is superior to me, and she doesn't trust me. If I cannot tell her, at the very least, can you? Can_ some_body?__ I am getting frustrated, and lying on such a frequent basis is an incredible strain on me, health included. If I'm honest with you... I haven't been eating and I've been having trouble sleeping. I will have to tell her eventually, you and I both know that. We'll have to tell _all_ of the Order. Am I not allowed to tell anyone because it would ruin your happy little elite team? Am I not_ good_ enough to be a full member yet_?_ Everyone knows about Severus, why I am I any different? Help me understand, Dumbledore. I _need_ to understand._

_D.M._

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"You're looking..." Hermione watched Draco with a scrutinizing gaze. Haggard, tired, stressed... "Thin. Really thin."

"Oh... uh... really?" Draco said distractedly, turning a page of the Daily Prophet and accidentally knocking over his fresh cup of coffee. Hermione watched his hasty wand movements as he cleaned up the spill, his pale gray eyes darting to the darkened window.

"You've never done that before." said Hermione, absently thinking out loud.

"Done what-?"

"Knocked over your coffee. or just been clumsy in general. And I mean you weren't exactly a sumo wrestler before, but now... do you even eat anymore? I don't think I've seen you eat a full plate of food since the first night here, and your main diet consists of coffee and cornflakes on yoghurt. Not only is that... _weird_, but it's... not _you_, I guess. Or maybe it is? But you're always so... cool. Calm and collected. Nothing ruffles Mr. Draco Malfoy. But something is ruffling you now. You can tell me." His eyes met hers and their gazes locked; suddenly Hermione found it hard to breathe under his intense mercurial stare, couldn't stop her eyes darting quickly to his very slightly curved lips. "Is it because your silly Death Eaters kicked you out and you want to be with them again?" Something flashed in his eyes and was gone just as quickly, and Hermione saw Draco shake his head imperceptibly, his lips pressing into a hard line as his expression turned to stone.

The look on her face was so smug Draco felt his fists clench beneath the table and stood abruptly.

"I need to... go."

_Before I do something I regret._

_._

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* * *

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_._

_._

Light bled from the street lamps into the sea, as if the darkened roads were supported only by thin yellow beams of light in the darkness. Draco stood alone at the edge of the sand, watching the waves roll off his boots and pale moonlight glint off the broken glass that was littered around the beach, crunching underfoot. He shoved his hands deeper into his dark trench coat pockets, frowning slightly at the nip of frost that was seeping into his bones.

He'd said he needed to go out; he needed to clear his head. But as he looked out across the vast ocean, he realised how impossible that was. And he laughed. A quiet chuckle, the laughter of one who is doomed by a terrible secret only they know. How could he possibly clear his head? He was so busy managing a double life he had no time to ponder such frivolous things. And Granger...

"_Fucking_ Granger." he said to no-one in particular, angrily grinding his teeth and kicking a shell into a tangle of kelp. She was the spanner in the works, the one who was unravelling him like an old woollen jumper. She was ruining his careful equilibrium that he had worked so many years to craft and balance. Granger was too smart for her own good. Why Dumbledore had made them live together he had no clue: she was like a dog with a bone, and once she caught wind of something, she wouldn't let it go until she knew every last sordid detail. And he _still_ couldn't tell her _anything_!

He would have to choose: loyalty or self-preservation.

He would have to choose soon, because the strain was tearing him apart.

Draco sighed heavily, heading over to a nearby bench and seating himself with a soft thud, putting his head in his hands. It was getting too much. The strain of constantly lying was getting to him. It had been three months now, and things were getting more dangerous than Draco could ever have imagined.

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* * *

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_"Now, my fellow Death Eaters," said a cold voice, echoing around the cavernous room. "Let us remember how Lucius Malfoy died. Let us remember how the Aurors _killed_ him after his _failed_ attempt at taking the Mudblood girl. Draco here," red eyes darted to Draco, who inclined his head solemnly. "Saw him before he died. What did he say, Draco?"_

_A deep breath. "He told me not to be a coward like he was."_

_Silence reverberated off the cold stone walls, making the next words even more piercing._

_"And a better Death Eater you shall be."_

"Excuse me mister? Sir? Can you move along please? Sir?"

Draco awoke with a start, bleary-eyed and stiff: he had fallen asleep on the bench. "Sorry." He mumbled, standing up with aching limbs and sweeping down his trenchcoat, brushing the sand from his dishevelled hair. "I just fell asleep." An involuntary shiver made him twitch slightly as details of his dream crept to the surface. The bobby looked him up and down, his careful, assessing gaze lingering over the pale blonde mess shadowing Draco's bloodshot eyes.

"Hmm. Just move along sonny, there's a good lad."

"Have a good day, sir." Draco said, distracting him with a polite incline of his head while slipping his wand out of his sleeve. "_Obliviate._"

He turned and walked away swiftly, head down, eyes averted. He couldn't have policemen sniffing around for some random albino man as well as having to balance the Death Eaters and the Aurors. _There is _way_ too much on my plate._.. His mood soured.

"Where were you?"

"Leave me a-fucking-lone, Granger." He pushed past her in the doorway, cracking his knuckles and storming to his room. He didn't look angry, but the air seemed to crackle with pent up frustration as he brushed past Hermione, slamming his door behind him. She shut the front door quietly, picking up an unopened letter from the shelf next to it, and tentatively walked over to his door. Hermione could hear zips sliding and papers being crumpled behind the thick wood. She knocked.

"Malfoy...?"

There was silence. "You're making me sound like a fucking _teenager_. I said _go away_. I thought you were a smart girl. Fuck off."

"Fine." she rolled her eyes impatiently, brushing his rudeness aside. "All I wanted to say was that an owl came while you were out last night. It was from Dumbledore. But I don't know what he would want with scum like you." she added as an afterthought, a sneer that Malfoy himself would be proud of adorning her face. "He's probably kicking you out or someth-"

The door flew open. "Did you say it was from Dumbledore, Granger?"

His hair was even messier than it was when he had walked in, and Hermione caught herself staring at it, admiring the effortlessness of the messy style. Then she realized what she was doing, and only just stopped herself from blushing furiously. _Admiring Draco Malfoy? Not likely._ She focused instead on the brightness that had returned to his wild gray eyes, and the genuinely hopeful expression on his drawn face.

"Yes, well, isn't that what I just said? Are your ears painted on, Malfoy?!"

"No, I- Dumbledore? When did it come?"

"Last night, like I said-"

A smile curved his lips. "Thank you, Hermione."

The door slammed shut again.

_Hermione...? He called me Hermione...?_

_._

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* * *

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Draco tore into the letter, his eyes darting back and forth across the page as he rapidly absorbed the words on the page. His face fell.

* * *

_Draco,_

_Dumbledore told me of your plight, and I have to agree with him. One person (in our case three) can keep a secret. Many can keep a secret, but then it is no longer a secret. We must choose carefully who we tell, Draco, because if someone is ever captured and tortured for information and your name is spoken, your very life could be in perilous danger, as we both know. The Dark Lord is a very dangerous foe, and we must take extra precautions against him. I do not want you to endanger yourself. But, your life is already in danger due to stress and your insomnia. You _need_ to eat and sleep; you _need_ to be healthy. This will sound idiotic, but look after each other. Judging from the letter you sent to Dumbledore, I'm surprised you haven't already got anorexia or malnutrition or something like that. Let Granger look after you, look after each other, and let her _see_ that you are not a bad person. You aren't a bad man, Draco, and I think it's high time you accepted that as truth. So, I agree with Dumbledore: no, you cannot tell her. Yet._

_Severus Snape_

* * *

He shook his head. "This is fucking _bullshit_!" he shouted, crumpling the letter in his fist and throwing it against the door. Draco ran a hand through his untidy hair, his eyes murderous. _This wasn't from Dumbledore at all! Snape is fucking good, I'll give him that. He _knew_ I wouldn't read it if it said it was from him... smart son of a bitch._

"_Fucking_ hell! God fucking damn it!"

Hermione stood outside the door, listening to his cursing curiously. "Malfoy?"

"What?!" his pale blonde head out. His happy expression before had been replaced with an exasperated one.

"Wh... nevermind. Sorry. I shouldn't have bothered you, I know you want to be left alone." Hermione turned to walk away, but a long-fingered hand caught her shoulder. She turned to look at his unreadable expression.

"Look, I... I'm not used to sharing, being an only child and all, you know how that is." He stopped to consider. "Actually, maybe you don't, if you have siblings. Anyway, sharing isn't a strong point, especially... especially with someone who was my... well. Someone who I despised for a good chunk of my life." His mind drifted to the letter. _I'm not going to get her to look after me or whatever. Fuck Snape. _"It's... difficult, but I want to get over it. We can live together as equals, right? You've surely figured out by now that I'm not going to kill you in your sleep or cart you off to the Dark Lord. So..." He held out his hand.

It was the worst cover up Hermione had ever heard, but she decided not to push the issue further: he was making an effort. "You want to be friends?" Hermione asked disbelievingly.

Draco's eyebrow quirked. "I was thinking more along the lines of _acquaintances_."

"Oh. Um..." Her hand hovered over his awkwardly. "_Acquaintances_, then." She took his surprisingly warm hand and shook it.

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* * *

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Hermione sat at the tiny table in the kitchen, watching Draco carefully arranging chicken on a crisp, green salad, adorning it with generous amounts of dressing and crispy noodles. She had to give it to him; he was a superb cook. Better than she'd previously given him credit for. Her gaze wandered from the food up his pale arms, lightly dusted with fair hair, to his rolled up black sleeves, then up to his lovely, pale gray eyes-

Their gazes locked, and for a split-second, both Draco and Hermione froze, unsure what to do. Then the lights went out. There was a strained silence, and then:

"Well, fuck." said Draco, fumbling for his wand. "Another bloody power-cut? This electricity business is shit! If only we could somehow rig this place up magically..." As he ranted, he lit up his wand and peered over at Hermione, who had lit hers too. "Are you all right?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione rolled her eyes and cast her gaze down. "I'm fine. I guess we'll have to eat by wand light until they get the power up and running again.

"Fabulous." Draco said sarcastically, putting a dish in front of her and setting a place opposite her as he sat down.

Dinner was an oddly intimate occasion. Sitting together like this reminded Hermione of happier times like this with Ron. Except it had been with vanilla candles, and rose petals and- _before _that _had happened. With _her_. And it was right before this bloody_ War_ too! Didn't he have a brain? Or a heart? Or just_-

Draco must've noticed a change in her mood because he set his fork down and started watching her face intently as she pushed her food around on her plate, suddenly not hungry.

"Granger? Hello? Earth to Granger?"

"What?" she said huffily, looking up at him with a scowl.

His amused smirk faded, and his eyebrows gathered together as he tried to puzzle her out. "Granger, why are you upset?"

"I'm not upset." Hermione said stiffly, standing up and picking up her uneaten salad. "Thanks for cooking, I-"

Draco shook his head and placed his hand on her forearm, leaning towards her. "Granger, just..." He seemed lost for words. "Stay. Talk to me about it." He cocked his head to the side at her expression, his lips twitching. "I'm not a bad listener. And it looks like you need someone to talk to." _Woah-ho-ho, hold up! Since when was _I_ offering to listen to _Granger_ babble on about frivolous things in her_ _life?! _Since now, apparently. He mentally facepalmed.

"I..." Hermione was teetering on the edge of sitting back down again and spilling everything, he could see it in her eyes. But then she blinked, and the vulnerability was gone, replaced with a distrust so intense it stung Draco. He took his hand off her forearm as if it had burned him and moved away from her, his spine straightening. Before she could say any more, he escaped to the kitchen sink and pretended he was washing the dishes. He could've kicked himself. How could he have been so stupid?

"Nevermind. Forget I asked." His tone was cold and flat, devoid of any emotion. _Stupid to do that, what the fuck was I thinking? Honestly, Draco, you've lost your mind!_

"Malfoy, I just... don't want to talk about it. It's private."

He glanced back at her, a wry smile on his face as he saw the distrust still clearly painted over her face. "Uh-huh."

"War makes people stupid and idiotic and it makes them do things I'm _sure_ they wouldn't do usually." Hermione huffed out, storming out of the kitchen.

A voice, so quiet that Hermione wasn't even sure he had spoken, drifted into the dining room, making her turn in suprprise.

"War makes monsters of men."

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* * *

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The atmosphere in the house was frosty after that night, and Hermione decided she would avoid Draco some more and write Harry a letter. Seating herself in the sofa next to the crackling fire, she tucked her feet up under her and began to write.

_Dear Harry,_

_How are you? I'm... fine. I think. I'm still trying to get over my parents' deaths, and that, I think, is the hardest part. Along with Ron. Is he happy? I hope he's fucking perfect- _here, the parchment was covered in angry ink blotches- _you can tell him that from me. _The tone of the words changed. _I'm just sad, Harry. Why did he do that? Why? Did I do something wrong? Did _I_ hurt _him? I_ don't _know_. Anyway, how's the Horcrux hunting going? Have you even left Grimmauld Place yet? You know you can't plan forever, Harry. I wish I could help you, I really do. Anyway, I don't think this message can be too long: you know how it is. So I'll send you another letter soon. Good luck Harry. I miss you._

_Love, Hermione_

Draco watched Hermione from the doorway, leaning against the frame and folding his arms loosely over his chest. He wondered who she was writing the letter to; it had to be either Potter or her beloved Weasel. He felt a strange twinge of jealousy pass through him, but he brushed it aside as a residue of his feelings for her back at Hogwarts. _You're over that now. Get a grip, Draco. Just because you haven't been laid for god knows how long, doesn't mean you have to jump the first woman who gets too close to you. _But as he watched her curls ripple as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, he felt himself still drawn to her.

"Hey Granger. Who're you writing to?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin, and her ink flew everywhere as she sprung to her feet and twisted to face Draco. "You!" she shrieked, pointing an accusing finger at him. "Why did you do that?!"

"I was just curious, Granger."

"Well you didn't have to just suddenly speak like that, you know. You could've-"

"Calm down Granger, it's-"

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down-"

"Seriously, Granger, you need to stop getting so touchy-"

"I'M _NOT_ TOUCHY!"

"Jeez, Granger, it's not like you found out I was cheating on you or something," he rolled his eyes. "Cool it." When he realised she wasn't going to cut him off again, Draco narrowed his eyes at her shrewdly. All of a sudden, something dawned upon him. "Oh." He said quietly, his eyes filling with knowledge. He felt slightly sick. "Oh I see. That's _it_, isn't it?"

"What's _it_?" Hermione said hastily, ready to deny anything and everything he threw at her.

"He _cheated_ on you, didn't he Granger?" He said, his eyes meeting hers, a raised eyebrow daring her to disagree.

Hermione looked on slightly smugly. He hadn't _quite_ hit the nail on the head, but he was close. Still, she wouldn't say yes to anything. "Nope."

"What? Really?" He looked disappointed and a little sad. "Hmm. Well something happened, I know it."

"Something happened with who?" she said acidly. "The milkman?"

"Well, that could've happened, you never know with some people." Draco said, a smirk stealing over his face. "But I reckon it was you, Weaselbee and..." His eyes narrowed in concentration. "Patil? No... hmm... Brown. I bet it was Brown." He watched Hermione carefully as the smugness dripped off her face like syrup. "Aha! I _knew _it! Care to share, Granger?"

"No." She said, fury stiffening her tone as she pressed her lips together primly. "That is _my _private business, Malfoy, between me, Ronald and Lavender, so get stuffed!"

"Aww, come on." He said, following her down the hallway as she leapt off the couch and stalked to her room. "I just want to talk, Gran-" The door was slammed in his face, but that didn't deter him. "I bet... you and Weasel were together- wait. He didn't cheat on you... hmmm... but that would only mean..." He gasped in mock surprise. "Granger, you were fucking a taken man! Scandalous!"

The door was opened again and a loud thud echoed off the walls of the hall as a hand reached out and slapped Draco in the face. "Shut up!" Hermione yelled, her cheeks scarlet with rage. "Just shut up! I don't want to hear about it anymore!"

Draco seemed to realise he had crossed a line, because he attempted to apologise. "Look, Granger, I didn't mean to-"

"I don't want to hear it."

"Seriously, Granger, I'm sorry. I didn't realise-"

"Exactly. You didn't know anything. You don't know anything."

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* * *

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When she woke, she found a stack of pancakes, bacon and eggs on a tray on the bedside table, accompanied by a note. Hermione picked it up curiously.

_Granger,_

_I'm sorry about last night. I didn't want to... hurt you, I guess. Sorry. You're right, it's your business. Are we still acquaintances? I'll be out all day so break a leg. Enjoy._

_D.M._

Draco himself, was once again at the Manor.

"How nice of you to visit again."

"My Lord." He inclined his head respectfully. "I have news on the whereabouts of Harry Potter." _Thank Merlin Dumbledore knows and told me a good place to lead the Death Eaters off the trail. If they catch him, I'm as good as dead..._

Red eyes stared coldly back at Draco, a flicker of approval sparking them. "Ah, do you? Where might he be?"

"My sources tell me he has been seen near the Forest of Dean."

"Then we shall go, and we shall see what magical traces he has left behind. Come, Draco. We will go now, and take Bellatrix with us."

Draco's aunt materialized suddenly from the shadows, a malicious smile on her face. "Hello, Draco darling," she cooed, walking a circle around him and trailing her fingers down his the side of his face, stopping next to Voldemort. "I heard about Lucius' death. What a shame." Her lips pouted, but her eyes were full of a maniacal glee. "He was a stupid man anyway; you are a much better version of him. You'll do better than he ever did, I am sure of it."

"Thank you, Aunt Bella." Another bow of his head.

"Let us leave, now." said Voldemort. They touched hands, twisted, and were gone.

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* * *

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"Where-?"

"Bella can trace him, do not worry, Draco." Voldemort flicked his hands carelessly at Draco's aunt.

"Of course, my Lord." She waved her wand and muttered something while Draco watched on, chin raised and eyes darting from Voldemort to the air around them, always cautious, always watching.

"Aha! Here!" Bellatrix pointed to a spot of glowing red light on a fallen tree trunk. "He was here, my Lord! This is Harry Potter's trace, I am sure of it!"

"Well done, Bella." Voldemort said in a flat monotone. "We may be able to track him through this. I commend you, Draco. Your sources are very accurate. How do you do it?" Shrewd, calculating eyes watched him.

"I have my ways." Draco said without missing a beat, keeping his face expressionless. Twirling his wand between his fingers, he added quietly, "torturing isn't beyond my methods."

"Indeed."

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* * *

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Hermione moped, which was very unlike her usual self. She felt lost and empty without Draco's presence; he always kept her on her toes, and she didn't like the way they had ended the previous night. She wandered around the empty house with no objective in mind, not wanting to think about the details of her and Draco's conversation. She didn't want to think about Lavender, to think about Ron, to think about anything. Hours went by as she took up residence on the sofa, too depressed even to light the fire. Night soon arrived on the edges of shadows shimmering with stars, and Hermione decided to cleanse herself by having a bath.

She undressed slowly, distracted by a book she had picked up from her room on the way. Settling into the hot water, Hermione put it down and closed her eyes, inhaling the rich scent of cinnamon and apples from the bubble bath as memories seeped to the front of her unguarded mind.

_"Hermione?"_

_She looked up, smiling at her flame-haired fiance. "Yes, Ron?"_

_He arrived in the kitchen, putting his left arm in his coat as he kissed the top of her forehead. "I'm just going out, love. I'll be back soon. I love you, 'Mione."_

_Her smile was small, but radiant. "I love you too, sweetheart."_

_Later, when he had gone, Hermione decided to go out to one of the little cafes in Diagon Alley; there was also a lovely bookshop she'd seen but hadn't entered yet. Today would be the day she would explore it. Wrapping a scarf around her neck and pulling a cream-coloured beanie over her unruly curls, she stepped out of their house and twisted, leaving nothing but footprints to show where she'd been._

_She appeared in the cobbled street, watching her breath rise in puffs in front of her. Smiling, she saw the bookstore ahead and made a beeline for it, enjoying the sound of the soft crunch of snow beneath her feet. Once inside, the warmth of the nearby fire swept through her, making her smile widen._

_It slipped a little when she realised she hadn't seen the flash of gold that matched hers on his left hand when he'd left that morning._

_._

_._

_._

_Once her bag was full to bursting with heavy tomes, Hermione wended her way over to the tiny cafe, walking past the window of a fancy restaurant. A red-headed man was on one knee in front of a mousy-haired woman whose eyes were shining with delight and happiness. The ring was gold, interspersed with rubies and diamonds in the shape of flowers. It was ornate and delicate, and very beautiful. _ Cute, _she thought, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she walked past. It reminded her of when Ron had proposed to her..._

_Hermione stopped dead. When Ron had proposed to her. In a fancy restaurant. Red hair._ It's a co-incidence! _Bile rising in her throat, she walked backwards past the large window again, closing her eyes and drawing in a deep breath._

_Kneeling in front of Lavender Brown was her fiance. _Her_ fiance. Ron. Hermione stumbled away, tears stinging her eyes as she felt her knees buckle. _No no no no no no not Ron no!

_Cool hands gripped her shoulders, pulling her to her feet. "Hermione? What are you doing here? I thought you were at home-"_

_"DON'T TOUCH ME!" She screamed, shoving Ron away and rubbing at her eyes frantically. "DON'T COME NEAR ME!" She could feel her heart tearing, ripping into shreds the longer he stood there. Hermione felt the hot tears cooling on her face as she said, "I don't want you to come near me! Stay out of my house! Stay away from me! Don't touch me with your filthy hands ever again, Ronald Weasley! Next time, I won't be responsible for my actions. I will-"_

_._

_._

_._

"Hermione? Hermione!"

There was a loud crash and a moment later a pair of warm, strong hands pulled her up out of the depths of the stone cold bathtub, and Hermione's lungs burned for the air she'd been accidentally depriving them of.

Her head lolled to the side as the hands dragged her out of the water and onto the tiles, the deep voice calling her name becoming more and more desperate.

Hermione wanted to call out to the man, to say _something_, but she couldn't move any of her muscles, she didn't have the strength to scream.

"Don't you _dare_ die on me!" The voice growled in her ear, as he began to pump his hands rhythmically on her chest. She could feel the darkness seeping into the edges of her hazy vision, leaving gaping black holes in place of the image of her saviour's face. It was pulling her under, he wouldn't be able to save her...

"Don't give up on me! Come on, you're so much stronger than this!" He roared, hands still compressing her chest. Then his soft lips came down on hers as he breathed air into her lungs like they were deflated balloons. "Please. Please!" His voice broke on the last word and she felt his breath tickle her cheek. He seemed to suddenly realise he was a wizard, because a minute later his hands came off her and there was the sound of wood against the tile floor as he dropped his wand. He picked it up and pointed it at her. "_Renervate_!" He had never been more fearful in his entire life, his heart racing in his chest.

The first breath Hermione took felt like the most precious one of her life. She coughed all the water out and inhaled deep lungfuls as her vision cleared and she found herself in the middle of the bathroom floor, a dripping Draco Malfoy breathing heavily through his nose as he sat with his back against the wall. Then she noticed the crimson smears littering the walls and floor and felt rising panic as she looked over and saw that Draco was covered in it. Blood dyed his fair hair a rusty shade in some places, and his torn white shirt clung to his lean, muscular body where it was wet with water and dark red stains.

"Draco?"

He looked up, seemingly startled by her speech. "I- yeah?"

"Why is there blood everywhere?"

If it was possible for Draco to pale even more, he did so. All the blood ran from his face, but as he stared at Hermione, it began to rush somewhere else, a heated flush creeping up his whole body. His mind kept conjuring up images of them together, doing something much more _fun_ than what they were doing now. He tried unsuccessfully to block them out because it was distracting having images of her body flashing through his head. "Before I explain, I- uh, here." He thrust her a towel, his eyes averted. Hermione snatched it up, swaddling herself in the decadent fluffiness, watching him all the while. "Sorry I forgot to get you a towel, I was-"

"Too busy trying to save my life." Hermione was in shock, not only from nearly dying and then waking to see blood everywhere, but because _Draco Malfoy_, of all people, had _saved _her_ life_. _He_ had saved _her_ life! This was such a feat to comprehend Hermione nearly passed out with the strain. "I guess... well... thank you. Thank you so much for saving me. How did you even know I was in here? I thought you said you'd be out-"

"I did, but I arrived back here and called out. You weren't anywhere. So I knocked on the bathroom door, and when you didn't reply I..." His eyes darted to the splintered door hanging off its hinges, then back to his hands, which were folded in his lap. "Well. Yeah." He gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the enticing images that seeing her body had elicited. Soon his thoughts would be very obvious, and Draco shifted subconsciously to bring his knees to his chest, covering his interest in her. He could still hear her moaning in ecstasy in the back of his mind, and it was bringing him to the limits his self control. _Stop it Draco. This is getting fucking ridiculous. She almost _died_ for Merlin's sake!_

There was silence as Draco tried to avert his eyes from the way the towel fitted to every curve of her luscious body and Hermione tried to comprehend the compassion and honour the man before her seemed to have. She gazed up at him from under her lashes. "Thank you, Draco, from the bottom of my heart."

Draco felt the clichéd fuzzy feeling inside him when she said his name. Her voice caressed every syllable, and he felt intense heat course through him, leaving him aching with a dizzyingly powerful need. He wanted her to say it more, to scream it, even, as he-

"I, uh, yeah. No problem." Draco said, tearing his mind away from those delicious scenes and returning to the now. He brushed a hand through his hair and winced: he had forgotten about the wounds from the battle he had recently escaped from. He was covered in deep cuts and welts everywhere, including his scalp, which burned from the soap he'd managed to splash into his hair. "You wanted to know about the blood... well... it's mine. I um, got in a bit of a pickle between the Order and the Death Eaters-" he bit his tongue, aware that he'd definitely let slip too much information.

"Order...? How do you-"

"It's raining outside," Draco said desperately, hoping to draw her attention away from the slip of his tongue. "Raining, ha ha. Isn't it always in London? Ha ha ha!" He laughed. And then his laughter stopped abruptly. "I can't do this anymore. I can't." He stood stiffly and left, leaving Hermione alone in the bloodstained bathroom.

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* * *

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Draco avoided Hermione for the next week. He left her notes about when he was going out, and he made her meals. But she never saw him, and he made damn sure he never saw her. He was confused. Draco no longer hated Muggle-borns or Muggles with the blind passion that had possessed him in his school years. He had hated Granger for her blood, but had always envied Weasel for his ability to charm the brightest and most beautiful witch in their year with only his stupidity and disgusting slovenliness. Hell, if Draco had been able to charm women with only that, he would've had all of them swinging off his arms with his class and intelligence. But of course, there was no respect for Slytherins in this world except in the Darkness.

And now? Now, he was lusting after Granger. Again.

He'd always secretly adored her at Hogwarts: he'd watched the swish of her bushy mane as her slender hand reached for the ceiling when she answered a question in class; the way her eyes sparked with anger whenever he'd mercilessly teased her and her friends; the way she had slapped him across the face in their third year. He was a sucker for girls with fire, smarts, and determination. Girls who were comfortable with themselves, and who showed loyalty beyond measure. Hermione had undone him at school, and now that they lived together, the pull towards her was even stronger. _That's what's making it so damn difficult! I like her. Merlin's saggy left y-fronts I like Hermione fucking Granger._ Draco groaned and put his head in his hands. _I was fine with the whole 'being an Order member and a Death Eater at the same time' thing until... until I began living with _her_. _He sighed, opening his eyes and staring blankly at the kitchen wall. _I don't want to lie to her. I hate it. But I have to think about her too, I mean... are she and Weasel...? I... this..._

"This isn't going to end well." He said, finishing his thoughts aloud.

"What isn't a going to end well?" Hermione was behind him, he could feel the tendrils of her apple and cinnamon scent wrapping around him, trapping him in his seat. Draco didn't like being trapped one bit. He stood up, still facing the wall.

"Nothing."

"Really?" Hermione stalked towards him, walking around him in a tight circle, watching him stiffen at her nearness. She was wearing a neat, light blue button-up blouse that was tucked into the top of a floaty skirt. She hadn't done all the buttons up, and from his vantage point (Draco thanked Merlin he had been granted the gift of being tall), he could see her bountiful cleavage. Heat surged into his groin area and he suppressed a shudder with great difficulty.

"Nothing at all." His face was expressionless, unreadable. _Don't do it Granger, you'll regret my next actions if you keep doing this..._

"I don't believe you." Hermione said, stopping right in front of Draco, her honey coloured stare triumphant and challenging. She hadn't been able to quit thinking about him all week: his scent, his strong arms, his warm hands, his eyes, the feel of his lips, silky against hers...

"Well you should. Seriously Granger, just forget it."

"Why?"

_Because I work for the Order! I'm on your side! I really like you and want to do you so hard you- _"Because it's not worth bothering about. You... it won't matter to you. It doesn't matter to you."

Her gaze turned contemplative. "Try me. I'm a good listener. You can trust me."

Draco snorted, backing away and leaning against the wall and fixing her with a darkly disbelieving look. "Uh-huh."

"No, really, I am." She insisted, coming closer. "I always listen to Harry, and-"

"You should learn to talk sometimes." Draco said quietly, his expression empty. "You want me to trust you, to tell you things I'm not even allowed to speak of in my own mind, when you wouldn't trust me earlier?" He realised how bitter he sounded, but that was beside the point. "I think that's a little bit of a double standard there, Granger." _Anger. Anger is good. If I keep being angry I can stop thinking about her._

Hermione looked flustered. "Well that was private-"

"And mine isn't?" Draco interjected, meeting her gaze coolly.

"Well... I supposed you're right."

"I am right."

"Well... look, I'm sorry I didn't 'spill my secrets' before, it's just so... fresh." Draco just made a noise of dismissal. Hermione pressed on, the words tumbling out of her mouth in a gush. "Look, I was engaged to Ronald and then I walked past a fancy restaurant-" _Always, I will always remember that it was a fucking _fancy_ restaurant. "-_ and saw him on his knee with a much flashier and expensive ring than my own. In front of Lavender Brown." There were tears that gathered in her eyes as she spoke, and wiped them angrily away with her fists. "Not that I really care about expensive rings, but I obviously meant nothing to him compared to Lavender. He'd said we didn't have a lot of money to buy a ring, and I was okay with that. I was happy, even, with just a simple gold band because I would be marrying the man I loved. What a joke." Hermione said, laughing scornfully. "There, are you happy now?" The tears kept coming and she looked away from Draco, embarrassed by her little rant. She backed away, but he followed, and soon her back was against the wall, barely an inch between their noses.

"Happy?" She felt his fingers under her chin, drawing her gaze to his. A thumb gently wiped the tears from her left cheek. "No... no I'm not happy." He was furious. Absolutely seething with rage at the stupid Weasel. _He had her! She was his and he just _blew it_! I can't believe he let her slip away like that, the imbecile! When I get my hands on him... _"I'm... sorry, Granger."

"Don't be." She said bitterly, trying to twist her head away. Draco's hand held her in place and she got impatient. "Let me go-"

"No. Weasley was a fool giving you up for that skank Lavender Brown." He said quietly, his eyes locked onto hers. "He had you from day one; he had stolen your heart without even realising it all this time! Think of all the clichés you can about being unique and special; they all apply to you. You _are _the diamond in the rough, the one in a million. You deserve better and so much more than that piece of filth."

Goosebumps rose on Hermione's skin at his words. "Ha ha, Draco." She'd said his name again, and he felt a ripple of pleasure flicker through him. "Like who?"

He realised how right Snape was in that moment. He _was_ a good guy. He deserved good things in life.

And he was going to take them.

"Like me." Draco said, and his lips closed over hers.

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_**Author's Note: **Woo! Second chapter: COMPLETE. I hope you guys enjoyed, finally some Dramione action goin' oowwwwnnnnn! :) (Sorry if there are heaps of mistakes in this or if it doesn't make sense, I was editing it late at night after work, which was probably a terrible idea.) So if you did enjoy, feel free to leave a review for me, and to follow and favourite if you want more! Also, from the next chapter onwards, I will probably be using a Beta, so yeah. EXCITING STUFF. Cool, so thanks for reading!_

_~Chongy_


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